


Close

by dmdiane



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Love, Non-Canon Relationship, Post-Canon, Trust, Undercover Missions, background James Bond/Q - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 00:47:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17818640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dmdiane/pseuds/dmdiane
Summary: Close  /adverb/1. in a near position or mannersynonyms: around, by, in, near, nigh





	Close

Gareth Mallory grits his teeth, a breath pushing through his long nose. It was easier to carry out an op in the field than oversee one from Q branch.  And easier to oversee one that did not involve someone he loves. He glares at the plasma screens, assessing. Waiting.

Q glances over with a soft smile. The young man’s fingers don’t hesitate as they fly over the keyboard at his station. Coms go mute and before Gareth can ask why Q speaks. “Not for the faint of heart, sir.” And the coms flick back on.

“No.” Gareth answers. He is rarely so conscious of having traded safety for responsibility. No, that’s not quite it. When he was decommissioned due to injury he hadn’t had this in mind.

“Two minutes, 007.” Q intones.

Both men watch the op unfold three continents away. Q guides and cajoles and generally holds the tether of his operatives to their home. Gareth admires the complex mesh of human and technological capital infiltrate and dismantle a potential terrorist cell.

In his day, a 00 op was a brute force endeavor. Bond makes perfect sense to him. He wonders fleetingly if he’d have made the transitions that Bond has as completely. A smile twitches the corners of his mouth. Bond had the added incentive of Q of course. He has a fleeting awareness that if he’d had this when he was in the field he could have escaped… he tosses the recurrent thought away. No guarantees. Ever. He firmly anchors his thoughts to the present.

“003, withdraw. You are clear behind the third and fourth hut.” Q instructs.

003, wrapped in a burka, melts into a group of similarly clad women at a slow and graceful pace. Gareth recognizes her gait, her hands, the turn of her head in observation. They live together, work together, train together every day and he knows her now better than he knows himself. There is nothing in her movements that suggest even the slightest tension and he allows that to ease his own.

The operation splits into two screens. R steps up beside Q, her voice low and melodious. “I have you now, 003.”

“How are you this evening, R?” Eve murmurs.

“Well, thank you. Nice job today. Let’s get you home.”

*

Gareth buys the first round.

It looks as if all of Q branch and those 00’s in town have accepted Mallory and Tanner’s invitation for drinks this evening. The last six months have been extraordinary in terms of successes for the service and a celebration is in order. Gareth leaves clear instructions with the bar staff, his agents get their first and third drinks on him. He leaves his card with the manager and turns to face the room. Bill reserved the back alcove for the team and they’ve gathered there looking delighted. He sees them all frequently but they don't see each other as often as one might assume. They are clearly content with each others’ presences. It has taken him the better part of three years to get everyone on first name bases. This evening there are no designations or titles in play.

Ford Holmes is curled under James Bond’s arm watching attentively while James and Eve talk. Bill’s wife, Michone, is ensconced at the Q branch tech’s table catching up with her former co-workers while Bill is with a group of 00’s standing in the far corner doing the same. Gareth knows that by evening’s end the two groups will be cordially blended. Given how closely they must work, and the trust that needs exist between the handlers and the agents, his efforts at team building have been well worth wrangling two of the most difficult groups of people on the continent. Maybe on the planet. He allows himself a small smile. His ¼ of Her Majesty’s Secret Services has become the smooth running organization he’s long dreamt it to be. As always, his gaze returns to Eve. She’s looking back, dark eyes assessing. He lifts his chin and takes a stride in her direction.

Eve grins as Gareth slides into the booth beside her.

“What’ve I missed?” He asks the table in general.

“The usual bragging between these two.” Ford offers, voice dry. “Who did what, when. Whose mission was most important.”

Gareth sips his scotch with pointed neutrality. James shakes his head.

“Alright, I will concede that we were both exceptional,” Eve says. Working in the field again agrees with her, she sparkles with energy. She says she’s not interested in a full-time field assignment, likes being his security detail and secret weapon.

James rolls his eyes. “If I hadn’t breached that first ring of security…”

“Yes, yes. But what were you gonna do with that IT setup? Honestly.” Eve interrupts.

“She has a point,” Ford adds.

The facts are that creating a team instead of retiring James and re-activating Eve was one of Ford’s brighter ideas. The young genius has them by the bushel, but this one created an extraordinary weapon. If the crown doesn’t complain too much about the cost, Gareth will begin more creative agent pairings for more complex operations. For now, the complicated ops go to James and Eve while the other agents continue to work independently. He turns his cup in his hand, feeling fortunate she has James at her back. He can’t imagine being sanguine with her in the field on her own and hates the hypocrisy. She is as good an agent as he ever was. Then, he loves her more than he does himself.

“Stop that.” Eve taps him on the chin, bringing his attention immediately back to the present.

He ducks the next intended tap. “What?”

“It almost looked like you were thinking about work.” She chides.

“I almost was.” He confesses, eyes full of mischief.

*

Eve doesn’t really feel like she’s home until they’ve made love and she’s collapsed into the afterglow, head snug against Gareth’s chest, his skin damp beneath her cheek where his heart thumps its reassurance. His fingers sift through her hair, something he is only allowed in this circumstance, it will be the equivalent of candy floss before he’s through. He is no respecter of a curl pattern. She chuckles and he tugs her close.

“Good to have you here.” He murmurs.

“Mmmm. Who was your close protection while I was gone?” She doesn’t trust others as much as she ought to keep him safe. Their regular security team is excellent, hand picked by her and trained by Gareth, James, and Q. They work with her, a seamless shroud of safety around him. Adding someone else in her absence creates wrinkles no matter how skilled.

“Rhys.”

She looks up at this, her brows high. “Oh?” 009 is not to be sneered at in the role.

Gareth smirks. “Yes. I know your thoughts. Seemed ideal.”

She opens her mouth. Closes it. Nods.

“And you know that’s not what I meant.” His amusement quivers under her.

“I do.” She admits. “Well, as long as he wasn’t sleeping with you, I guess that’s a fine choice.”

He laughs aloud. “We discussed it, but preferred to continue living.”

She jabs his ribs, unerringly finding a ticklish spot.

“Surrender. I surrender.” Gareth rolls them, scooping her into his embrace, folding her so close she can’t move much more than it takes to breathe through laughter. She sinks her teeth into the muscle of his shoulder. Affection bubbles through her, hot and so welcome.

“It’s good to be back, love. I missed you.”

He stills, sobering. He gazes down, crystalline blue. “Did you?”

She’s loath to admit this but yes, of course she had. She wrinkles her nose at the sentiment. This man. This man dredges up feelings from depths she would've never predicted. She gives in and nods. “I did. Very much.”

Something happens to his expression she hasn’t seen before, something tender and vulnerable and young. His expression opens so wide she cannot help but fall into his gaze feeling raw and grateful. She realizes that he didn’t know.

“You are everything.” She whispers. “You must know.” He’s loosened his hold on her and she strokes his much-beloved face.

“I would never assume.”

No, she thinks, he wouldn’t. Dear gods. “Will you marry me?” It is the only thing she can think to ask in the face of his affection and constancy. The only way she can think to show him how very much he means to her, will always mean to her.

“I will.” He offers. “Yes.” His eyes glitter suspiciously. “That will change everything, you know.” There are multitude reasons they’ve not ventured this way. As deeply as their relationship is frowned upon within the services, legalizing it will snatch them apart professionally.

She traces the width of his lips, rememorizing the fine lines and the dip of his philtrum. “It will change nothing, love. I will be as I have been, yours. You will be mine. We are already far past any walking back. We will find our way.” There are places in the services she can be more effective, work she can do that she will enjoy and that will complement his. They will always be partners. “It will be better, I think, than we can imagine. I promise.”

He rests his head on her collarbone and she strokes circles on the back of his neck. She basks in sudden contentment colored by anticipation. This. This is everything.


End file.
